Food Run
by Gertrude Granger
Summary: Just when Gert thinks her life can't get any worse, she's forced to spend time alone with Chase Stein.


**Author's Note: This story takes place between **_**Runaways**_** #12 and #13 (after the kids meet Cloak and Dagger, but before their final showdown with the Pride).**

It all started because they ran out of food.

"I knew we should have rationed things more carefully," said Alex. He picked up a cereal box and held it upside down. Not a single crumb fell out. "Even split between the six of us, this should have lasted more than two days."

"We didn't think it was going to need to last longer than that," said Karolina. "When Dagger said she was friends with the Black Widow, I figured we'd be out of here within twenty-four hours."

"Me too," said Nico. "What do you think is taking the Avengers so long?"

"You're assuming they're actually coming," said Gert. "How do we know Dagger wasn't talking out of her scantily-clad ass?"

"She's a superhero," said Alex. "If we can't trust her, who can we trust?"

Gert sighed. Even after finding out their own parents were supervillains, her friends were sometimes infuriatingly naïve.

_Friends?_ _Is that how I think of them now?_

She didn't know what to call these people she was living with. A few weeks ago, they had been acquaintances, just her parents' friends' kids who she was forced to hang out with once a year. Then their world had been turned upside down. There was no denying that they'd shared something no one else would ever understand. But did that mean they were truly friends now? Did she even _like_ them?

"Can you guys argue later?" asked Molly. "I'm starving."

Gert smiled slightly. Well, she liked the kid, at least. Molly was surprisingly tough, candid, and, Gert suspected, much smarter than she let on. Come to think of it, she reminded Gert a little of herself. And the others weren't so bad once you got to know them…except maybe for Chase.

"Molly's right," said Alex. "Whether the Avengers get here tomorrow or the next day or never at all, we still need food for tonight."

"But we're completely out of cash, and we can't use our credit cards without giving away our location," said Nico.

"Not a problem!"

As if he'd been waiting for his cue all day, Chase appeared at the top of the grand staircase. In his hands was an ornate wooden box.

"I've got the solution right here," he announced as he came down the stairs.

The others looked at each other.

"Do we even want to ask?" Gert whispered.

Chase opened the box and held it out for everyone to see. It was brimming with jewelry.

"Are those real diamonds?" Nico asked, wide-eyed.

"I think they are," said Gert, examining a brooch the size of a walnut. Personally, she had little interest in jewelry, but you pick up a thing or two when your parents are (evil, time-traveling) antique dealers. Most of the pieces looked about eighty or ninety years old, and they were definitely high-quality.

"Chase, where did you get this?" asked Karolina.

"It was in one of the bedrooms."

"And how does this solve anything?" asked Alex.

"You don't get it? Man, and you're supposed to be the smart one!" Chase shook his head. "We can pawn these and use the money for food!"

There was a pause.

"That's…not the worst idea I've ever heard," said Karolina.

"No, it's a great idea," said Gert. "Except for one thing: _we're fugitives._ We can't afford to draw attention to ourselves. And you know what's going to draw attention? A bunch of teenagers walking around with a box of jewels."

"You got a better plan, _Arse?"_ asked Chase.

Gert opened her mouth to spout off another witty retort, but then she realized he had a point. As risky as Chase's plan was, it was the best any of them had come up with yet. The world really had been turned upside down.

Gert looked at Alex. Normally she had problems with authority figures, especially self-appointed ones, but the guy had done a decent job of holding the group together so far. When in doubt, she would trust his judgment. Unfortunately, Alex looked as conflicted as she felt.

"Do you really think this will work?" he asked Chase.

"Would I have brought it up if I didn't?"

Now everyone was watching Alex, waiting for his decision.

"Okay, fine," he said at last. "But just take one or two pieces; that will attract less attention. And there's really no reason for all of us to go. Chase, it was your idea, so pick a buddy and—"

"Karolina," said Chase.

Karolina shook her head violently.

"No way," she said. "Risk your own neck if you want, but until Captain America walks through that door, I'm not going anywhere."

"Same here," said Nico.

"Gert, you go with him," said Alex.

"WHAT?" Gert and Chase said in horrified unison.

"Why me?"

"Why her?"

"We can't make Nico or Karolina do anything they're not comfortable with," said Alex, "and I need to stay here and work on decoding the Abstract. That only leaves you and—"

"I'll go!" Molly leaped out of her chair. "I'm not afraid of getting caught! And I'll finally be able to pick out my own cereal. I want Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs!"

Gert looked at the youngest runaway sadly.

"No, kid," she said. "I'll go. You're young, you're innocent…you shouldn't be exposed to Talkback any more than you have to be."

Molly giggled. Chase glowered.

"Fine," he said. "Let's get this over with."

After some debate, they decided on taking an emerald necklace. They figured it had to be worth enough for at least a week's worth of food. With that settled, there was no reason to dawdle any longer.

"Do me a favor and keep Old Lace company while I'm gone," Gert said to Nico.

"Of course," she replied. "Have fun."

Gert just snorted.

O0O0O

Chase didn't say a word on the ride to the pawnshop. Gert was so relieved that she didn't even protest when he put on some God-awful heavy metal album and cranked up the volume until the van vibrated. The preservation of her sanity was worth the damage to her eardrums.

After twenty minutes of driving, Chase pointed to a flashing neon sign in the distance.

"Let's try that one," he said. Gert nodded.

Gert had never been in a pawnshop before. The word conjured vaguely sinister images of dimly-lit rooms and grimy display cases in her mind. The reality wasn't quite so seedy, though the man behind the counter did look like a reject from _The Sopranos_, complete with greasy, black hair and a gold chain around his neck.

Greasy eyed the emerald necklace suspiciously.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"It's our mom's," Chase said without hesitation. He lowered his eyes. "We're in a little trouble—you know, financially. So she asked us to pawn it, to make a little cash."

Gert was amazed. Had Talkback thought of this cover story in advance? If so, she was impressed—and irritated with herself for not having as much foresight. If not, she was a little scared. No one should be that good at lying on the fly.

"Why didn't she bring it in herself?" Greasy asked.

"Too embarrassed," said Chase. "She's got a lot of pride, our mom. She can't stand thinking about her grandmother's favorite necklace in the hands of a stranger."

Okay, now he was laying it on a little too thick. It was time to step in.

"How much can you give us for it?" Gert asked.

Greasy stared at her for a moment before answering. Gert held his gaze, trying to look anxious but also hopeful—Chase wasn't the only one who could act.

"Fifty bucks," Greasy said eventually.

"Are you _high?"_ Chase shouted. "Those are real emeralds!"

"Seventy-five."

"Deal," Gert said before Chase could open his big mouth again.

"_What?"_ said Chase. "Gert, what are you doing? He's ripping us off!"

"Can it!" she said.

He was right, of course. Greasy was robbing them blind. But $75 would buy enough food to get them through the next few days, and the longer they hung around here arguing, the likelier it became that they'd be caught. Greasy was already looking from Gert to Chase and back with growing suspicion.

"What did you say your name was?" he asked Gert.

"Uh, Jane," she said. "If you could just give us the seventy-five…"

Greasy came out from behind the counter.

"Your buddy didn't call you Jane just now," he said. "It sounded like he called you Gert. That's short for Gertrude, right? Like that kid on the news?"

Chase cursed under his breath.

"Um, I think you've got me confused with someone else," said Gert.

"I don't think I do."

_Don't panic, _she told herself. _Panicking is the worst thing you could do. Just stop and think for a second._

It was two against one, and Greasy didn't look like the athletic type. Neither was Gert, to be fair, but Chase was. If he could just overpower the guy long enough for them to get back to the van, then they could be out of here long before the police showed up.

She looked at Chase out of the corner of her eye. How was she going to convey all of that to him without tipping off Greasy? Could Talkback work it out on his own?

When she looked back, Greasy was pointing a gun at her face. So much for that plan.

"Whoa, dude!" said Chase. "Let's not do anything stupid."

"You brought all the stupid in with you, kid," said Greasy. "I'm just doing what any sensible businessman would."

"Calling the police and letting them take care of us?" Gert suggested hopefully.

"Nah, there's no need to involve the cops. Your parents pay better. And I happen to know a guy who knows a guy with a direct line to them."

Gert pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course you do."

Greasy confiscated their phones and Chase's switchblade. Then he locked them in a storeroom at the back of the building.

"Don't try anything cute," he called through the door. "Your folks want you back in one piece, but they didn't say nothing about your kneecaps."

As his footsteps faded away, Gert wheeled on Chase.

"You idiot!" she shouted. "Why the hell did you call me by my real name? Do you not understand the point of a codename?"

"It just slipped out!" said Chase. "And he might have bought that you were a different Gertrude if you hadn't told him your name was Jane a second later!"

Gert let out a wordless scream of frustration. Chase was right; she had panicked. This was as much her fault as his.

"How much time do you think we have?" Chase asked.

"Until the 'rents arrive? Depends on a lot of factors. It could be twenty minutes or ten."

As it turned out, it was nearly an hour. Greasy's connections must not have been as good as he thought. But all the time in the world wouldn't change the fact that they were trapped in a windowless room without so much as a paperclip to pick the lock.

Gert slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. "Well, at least the others are still free. Maybe they'll be able to stop The Pride without us."

"Don't be such a defeatist," Chase snapped.

"How is saying the others might still have a chance defeatist?"

"Do you have to contradict every damn thing I say?"

"Pretty much every damn thing you say is stupid, so yes."

Chase's fists clenched. "God, you are so…so…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Gert closed her eyes. She was past caring what Talkback thought of her. "I'm as annoying as I am ugly. Don't strain yourself."

There was a pause. She looked up to see Chase staring at her.

"Do you really think that's how people see you?" he asked.

Gert was taken aback. "Isn't it?"

"No way! I mean, you _are_ pretty annoying sometimes, but—"

"All the time, from what you tell me."

Another pause. Then, sighing, Chase joined her on the floor.

"I don't _mean_ to be an ass, you know," he said.

He sounded sincere. Now Gert was really amazed. She'd thought Talkback was incapable of self-awareness.

"Yeah, well, I don't mean to be an insufferable know-it-all," she said. "But it happens."

"Touché, Hermione."

Gert smiled. She hadn't expected him to pick up on the Harry Potter reference.

"Let's make a deal," she said. "I'll try to remember to think before I speak if you'll do the same."

"Deal."

He held out his hand and, after a moment, she shook it. It was surprisingly soft.

The touching moment was interrupted by a thunderous crash. In the other room, Greasy started screaming. Gert and Chase looked at each other.

"Our parents?" said Chase.

Gert shook her head. "He'd be sucking up to them, not shouting."

They listened in tense silence. There was more shouting, another crash, and then Greasy's screams turned into terrified whimpers. Footsteps approached the storeroom door. A lot of footsteps. Gert braced herself for a full-out assault.

"Gert?" called a familiar voice. "Chase? Are you in there?"

Gert's eyes widened. "Nico?"

"Stand back, you guys!" called another voice.

Gert and Chase moved to the back corner of the storeroom. There was a tremendous THUD, the door flew open, and in walked Molly. She barely made it through the doorway before Old Lace bounded past her. Nico and Karolina soon followed.

"Are you guys okay?" asked Karolina.

"We are now!" said Chase. "How did you find us?"

"Old Lace," said Nico. "She kept getting more and more agitated, until finally, I figured something must have gone wrong. We followed her here."

"Atta girl," said Gert, hugging her pet.

Alex poked his head in the door. "Glad you guys aren't dead. Now let's get the hell out of here."

Greasy was lying on the floor behind the cash register. For a second, Gert thought he might be dead, but then she heard snoring. No doubt Nico's work. Gert resisted the urge to kick him in the groin as she passed, but she did snatch a handful of cash from the register.

Miraculously, they made it back to The Hostel without incident. Gert never would have believed she could be so happy to see the dump. Minutes later, Chase was blithely playing tag with Molly, his close shave apparently forgotten.

"Poor Gert," said Nico. "If I were stuck in a confined space with Chase for an hour, I'd probably kill us both."

"Actually, he wasn't that bad," said Gert.

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

To her horror, Gert felt herself _blushing_. "Don't look at me like that. I just meant…whatever."

Desperate to change the subject, she pulled out the wad of cash she'd stolen from Greasy and waved it in Nico's face. There was enough to get them through another week—maybe more, if they were really frugal.

"At least the night wasn't a total waste," she said.

"No, it sounds like it wasn't," said Nico. But Gert had a feeling she wasn't talking about the money.


End file.
